


Fall From Grace

by pepsicola



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, Title is a lyric from "Don't Blame Me" by Taylor Swift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 21:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17774207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepsicola/pseuds/pepsicola
Summary: Love is conformist.





	Fall From Grace

Kenny always sought out Henrietta every morning with the same question on his lips. It wasn’t that he was desperate. If he wanted, he could get any girl he pleased. But he didn’t want _just_ any girl. He wanted playing-hard-to-get, smile-suppressing, black-wearing Henrietta Biggle who smoked behind the school with her other goth friends.

Kenny rounded the corner of the gym, seeing Henrietta and her friends sitting on the ground smoking cigarettes with their music playing quietly from a speaker. Henrietta more than expected his arrival, her black Doc Martens tapping to the beat of the song. She barely spared him a glance as he sat next to her, his side pressing up to hers. She hid the small trace of a smile with a drag of her cigarette.

“McCormick,” she greeted.

“Princess,” he drawled.

She let the smoke sit in her mouth before breathing it out. She waited for Kenny’s question, the same every morning. The same question with her same answer, but the question that made her grin like a conformist girl at Forever 21 with a half-off sale on everything in the store when he was gone.

“Woe is me, when will be the day I shall whisk thee off to the palace of village, then to the lands of pleasure?” he asked, his head leaning back on the wall, exposing his lightly freckled neck.

He’d never worded it that way before. Usually he said something along the lines of, _C’mon, princess. I know you want me. I’ll take you to Village Inn, then back to my place. Or yours. Whatever sounds better to you. Does that sound like a plan?_

Henrietta glanced at Pete and Michael. They gave her an identical blank face back. Henrietta faced Kenny, her black hair swishing over her shoulder. His eyelids were lowered over his violet eyes in a teasing manner as he tried to predict her answer.

“After school. Meet me in front of the flagpole.” She popped the end of her cigarette back between her lips so the corner of her mouth wouldn’t betray her stoic, uncaring manner.

Kenny’s jaw fell open in shock, exposing the silver ball on his tongue. His eyes were wide, giving Henrietta a full view of his irises. “Are you serious?” he breathed. He looked over her shoulder to Michael and Pete, as if for confirmation. When he didn’t get anything from them, he found Henrietta again.

“When do I joke?” she said, smoke floating up between them. She pressed her cigarette tip into the blacktop. Kenny watched her as she took his chin in her hand and put her burgundy matted lips to his gaping mouth.

Kenny was a suave motherfucker, recovering quicker than most. His hand was on the back of her neck in an instant, kissing back with the expertise of any teenage heartbreaker. With his other hand, he pried her fingers off his chin and held her hand, his thumb rubbing against the black lace of her fingerless glove. His tongue flicked against hers, and she felt the cool metal of his piercing.

The bell rang, signaling the start of class. Henrietta pushed Kenny away, saying, “Gotta get to class." She fluttered her fingers at him, silently telling him she wouldn’t accept any protests.

Kenny smirked at her, getting to his feet. “See you guys,” he said to Michael and Pete. To Henrietta, he firmly pressed his lips to her cheek as a farewell.

Henrietta watched him in his orange coat scurry away. She both loved and hated that orange coat. It was nowhere near the superiority of black, but he pulled it off and made it look goth, making her love it.

“So you finally agreed.”

Henrietta turned to Michael, who had spoken. “I never thought I’d live to see the day,” he continued. He flicked away the useless end of his cigarette butt.

“I never thought I’d live this long,” Pete added.

“I think I’ve tortured him enough,” she said.

“Or,” Michael said, the hint of a grin in his voice, “you know that summer is a week away and you’re eager for summer loving.”

Henrietta didn’t blush. It was just the way she was made. “Whatever, Michael. Like you don’t give your pretty little conformist girlfriend summer loving every June, July, and August, and every other month of the year,” she retorted.

Michael’s pale face flushed, and Henrietta allowed herself to grin in satisfaction. Pete said, “So are we just going to ignore the fact that Firkle totally _doesn’t_ have a crush on Karen? You know, Henri, your boyfriend’s little sister?”

Henrietta rolled her eyes at him. “Obviously I know. The only difference between Michael and Firkle is that Karen is nonconformist. Unlike Becky Thompson.” She threw a pointed look at Michael.

“Becky sold vapes back in elementary,” he said matter-of-factly.

Pete waved away his remark, laying on his back on the dumpster he sat atop. “Doesn’t count. She hasn’t done anything like that since. Now she just wears crop tops and short skirts.”

“Henri wears crop tops and short skirts,” Michael pointed out.

“Yeah, but I make it look nonconformist,” she said. She smoothed out her shirt, covering her belly ring. It’s her favorite one. A black cross disguised as a sword. Her second favorite was her plain black ring with no gaudy accessories hanging off of it.

“She’s not wrong,” Pete agreed. For some reason, he’d decided to dye his entire head red earlier that year. It didn’t look as bad as Henrietta had originally thought it would.

All of them had changed in some way since middle school. Pete with his hair, Henrietta with her hair and her clothes, and Michael, well, he hadn’t changed too much. Only his color contacts changed consistently. And the youngest of their clique, Firkle, they hadn’t gone to school with them in years. But as soon as they hit senior year, they’d be reunited once again, aside from Michael, who'd have graduated already.

At lunch, Henrietta was back with her friends after having to sit in her boring history class for an hour. She was eating food from the cafeteria when an arm was slung around her shoulders. It was Kenny’s arm. She could tell from the orange filling up her peripheral vision.

“We still on for after school?” he asked.

“Mhm,” Henrietta said nonchalantly, stabbing her fork into the drumstick on her paper plate.

Kenny thumbed away some mashed potatoes at the corner of her mouth. She glanced at him, and he grinned. The gap in his teeth was on full display, a whole entire missing tooth on the left side of his teeth. “Sorry,” he said. “It looked inappropriate.”

She scoffed, her mouth twitching to grin. “Isn’t today your day to hang out with your other conformist buddies?” she asked.

Kenny’s lips quirked to the side in mock thought. “I have no idea. I hung out with them yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. So yeah. I guess it is my day to hang out with them,” he joked.

His fingers caressed her cheek as he brought her face to his mouth. “See you in three periods, princess,” he whispered in her ear.

Then he was gone.

 

Henrietta sat with her legs crossed on the concrete slab next to the flagpole. Kids hurrying to the bus did doubletakes at her. It wasn’t often she hung out in front of the school. One kid, presumably a freshman, kept his eyes on her for a beat too long. She bared her teeth at him, and he quickly darted away.

“Aww, c’mon now, Henri. Don’t be scaring the freshmen.”

Kenny stood in front of Henrietta, grinning way too excitedly. She peered up at him, slightly raising an eyebrow. “Are we here to discuss pussy freshmen or go to Village Inn?”

Kenny offered her his hand. She took it and let him pull her to her feet. “I’ve always liked the way you think,” he said.

“I sure hope so. You _are_ taking me home after all,” she said. They started walking hand in hand to the student parking lot.

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m taking you home?”

“Technically, I’m taking _you_ home because I’m the one with the car, but you get what I mean.”

He looked ahead of him, beaming like an idiot. From her view, she couldn’t see that gap in his teeth on the other side of his mouth. “I know exactly what you mean.”

They got into Henrietta’s mom’s minivan. She started the car and backed out of the parking spot. Kenny turned on the radio, and she slapped his hand away when he moved to change the station. He chuckled.

At Village Inn, Henrietta ordered a black coffee and a burger without pickles, onions, or tomatoes. Kenny got a sandwich to take home for Karen and the special for himself.

Technically, this wasn’t their first date. They’d gone to Village Inn together various times before. There was even that time earlier that year when Henrietta got Kenny to wait in a line for a club in Denver she herself had already gotten into. Kenny had told her he could tell the bouncer didn’t believe what his ID said, as if knowing it was fake, but he let him in anyway. Kenny had gotten her to dance with him in the neon lit club with blasting conformist music and other conformists dancing to it. It was the most fun she’d ever had. She'd never admit that aloud, of course.

In the round booth they now sat in at Village Inn, Henrietta allowed herself to scoot up close to him and put her head on his shoulder as she sipped from her green mug. She could tell Kenny was more than happy with the gesture, draping his arm around her shoulders.

Kenny smelled like cigarettes and spearmint gum. That, and cheap cologne.

“Karen’s starting high school soon,” she said. "She's only a few years away." Ever since she got Karen to join their nonconformist clique in fourth grade, she’d always seen the girl as her little sister. She would much rather have a little sister than a conformist brat little brother who turned out to be an alien from another planet.

“She and Firkle both,” Kenny said. “They’re growing up so fast.”

Henrietta cackled. “We’ll be starting our junior year of high school. Soon enough you’ll be going to college and I’ll find something _else_ to do with my life.”

“Are you _sure_ you don’t wanna go to college?” he said.

She shrugged one arm. “I’ll probably go to a community college. Then get a freaking conforming job in a cubicle to make money so I can live in this pointless life.”

He nodded, popping the last fry from her plate into his mouth. “Good. Coming from a poor boy, that’s a solid plan. Gotta make money somehow.”

She bit back a smile, and rubbed his stomach affectionately. “And maybe I can help you send Karen to college,” she said.

His hand enveloped hers, lifting it to his mouth, where he kissed her fingertips individually. When her fingers folded over his hand, he kissed her knuckles.

“I love you, Henri,” he said.

It wasn’t the first time he’d told her he loved her. And it most definitely wasn’t the first time she didn’t deny it either.

“I know. And I love you too.”

It was such a conformist, overrated, cliche thing to say, but she wouldn’t go and try to say it wasn’t true.

After Village Inn, the two went over to Summerton Park to have a quick smoke in the dark. The place was disgusting and broken down, and even Henrietta agreed when Kenny voiced that the place needed to be redone.

At eleven at night, they decided it was about time to go back to her place. Kenny offered to drive, so Henrietta let him. He rolled down the windows and she allowed him to change the radio station.

At her house, he asked, “Are your parents home?”

“Probably.”

She led him up the stairs to her room.

“And that doesn’t worry you in anyway?”

She snorted, opening her door. “Not at all.”

Instead of turning on the lights she never used, Henrietta took her lighter from the back pocket of her denim skirt and lit up the candles lining her room.

“You know, I really like your room,” Kenny said.

She closed and locked the door behind her. “Why?”

“Because it has that goth aesthetic. And, of course, your thong lying on the floor. It’s really classy.” He crouched and picked up her black thong discarded by the closet.

She rolled her eyes, taking off her gloves and dropping them onto her vanity. “Oh please. Like you don’t have posters and magazine cut-outs of naked girls on your walls. I’ve been to your house, conformist.”

“Me? Conformist? Princess, you’re thinking of the wrong guy. I smoke cigarettes and not only do I drink coffee, but I work at a coffee shop too. I’m far from conformist.”

She grinned, reaching up to her hair, but Kenny stepped closer to her and said, “Here. I’ll do it.”

Kenny was 5’11. She fit perfectly right under his chin, being only 5’3. She felt his delicate fingers pull out the bobby pins of her half bun. She had a thing for half-up half-down hairstyles. Her hair tumbled down onto her shoulders.

“You look good with long hair,” he mused.

In seventh grade, she decided to grow out her hair after realizing keeping it short because her mom said she liked it longer was dumb. Really, she was just keeping her hair short to annoy her mother, even if she too liked it longer. Her mother had never even said she didn’t like it short. As a nonconformist, Henrietta’s only job was to do the things she wanted to do and not follow society’s rules. She wouldn’t be restricted from keeping her image from what she liked.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

As he messed with her hair, she unzipped his coat. He had told her about the shark tooth necklace he wore. He and his friend had gone to Hawaii and earned the necklaces. It was kind of conformist, but she couldn’t deny that his devotion to Butters was moving.

Her crop top went over her head, the sleeves turning inside out when they fell off her hands. Kenny pulled her to his chest, kissing her temple. Her hands went up his shirt, resting on his sides. “How many girls have you undressed before me?” she asked jokingly.

He chuckled quietly. “None, actually,” he said.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, c’mon, Kenny. We both know I’m not your first, you’re not mine.”

“I’m serious. The first girl I had sex with in eighth grade refused to let me take her clothes off. She did it herself, then we… you know.”

“I never knew that.”

“Yeah. In reality, it wasn’t as scandalous as people make it out to be. It was more like clumsy fumblings in the pitch black darkness,” he said. “What was your first time like?”

She blew out her cheeks, leading him onto her bed. “It was nothing from some romance movie or book, I can tell you that. He was nineteen, I was fifteen. As soon as it was over, he left and I never saw him again.”

Kenny kicked off his jeans. She laid down on her back, his knees pressed to her hips as he sat on his heels above her. “Freshman year? Before or after we started talking?” He took off his shirt.

“ _Before_ you started bothering me,” she said.

“But when we started talking, there was someone else. I remember because you told me to stop trying because you were already dating someone.”

“He was a different guy.”

“Oh.” His fingertips went up and under the band of her bra, circling around to the clasp at her back. The sensation sent goosebumps up Henrietta’s arms. She brought his face down to hers so she could kiss him. His tongue piercing clicked against her teeth. She felt it when he undid her bra. He slid it off her shoulders and exclaimed, “Holy shit! You have a tattoo on your sideboob?” She laughed as he squinted and read, “ ‘All roses have thorns.’ ”

She felt his lips on the spot she knew where the tattoo was. She shivered, wrapping her arms around his head. He moved down to her stomach, and she could feel his smirk on her skin when he toyed with her belly ring. “Is this supposed to be a sword or a cross?” he asked.

“Both.”

The button on her skirt came undone as he pulled it off. “Ohh, Medusa. That’s why I’ve seen a snake head on your hip,” he said.

His hand ran up her tattoo on her hip of her upper right thigh. He kissed the spot under her belly button. His hands moved to get a hold of her by her hips. His final kiss was to her lips.

 

During the second week of summer, Henrietta showed up at the McCormick residence. Kenny let her in with a kiss to the top of her head. In the house, Henrietta saw Karen on the couch, on Kenny’s phone.

“If it isn’t the princess of all things dark herself,” Henrietta said.

Karen looked up, and immediately, her face broke out in a smile. “Henrietta!” she exclaimed. She got up from the couch and threw her arms around Henrietta. Henrietta hugged her back. Karen was already as tall as her. They were both short, and it probably had something to do with all the coffee they drank when they were younger.

“So, hey,” Henrietta said, “In a couple of hours, I’m going over to the salon to get my nails done. Why don’t you come along and get a mani-pedi or something? Kenny can watch and wallow.”

Karen pulled back, mouth agape in awe. “Really?” she breathed.

“You’re thirteen, aren’t you? I started getting my nails done at your age.”

Karen glanced at her brother, who shrugged. “Why not? It’d be rude to turn it down,” Kenny said.

Karen bounced on her toes. “I’ve always wanted my nails done. Ruby and I have always talked about it but never followed through.”

“Well today’s your lucky day,” Henrietta said, sitting on the couch. Kenny and Karen followed, sandwiching her between them.

After watching a few shows on Netflix on Henrietta’s laptop she brought over, they had to leave for Henrietta’s appointment. At the salon, Henrietta told one of the girls she wanted Karen to get her nails done as well, both fingernails and toenails.

Kenny pulled her aside when the lady sat Karen into a spa chair first. “Henri, let me pay for Karen at least—”

Henrietta slapped a hand over his mouth. “It’s fine. I have my dad’s credit card.” She felt him smile beneath her hand.

“Will you ever let me pay for something?” he asked.

Another lady took Henrietta by the arm and sat her in a chair next to Karen. “I don’t know, but probably not."

Kenny snorted, smiling sideways at her. Henrietta smirked down at her fingers splayed on the arm of the chair. She absolutely adored the McCormick family. Kenny, Karen, and even Kevin, who practically raised the two.

Adoration was so conformist, but it was okay if it was them.


End file.
